and have sweet dreams with me
by Caelitea
Summary: He runs from a cage of nightmares; she turns what he has abandoned into a palace of dreams. — N/Touko, thirteen years later.


**Author Notes**: Inspired by a piece of fanart I saw.  
>-I don't even know it's been a long time since I've tried writing something strictly romantic…and it's probably not even <em>that <em>romantic. I combine angst with everything…blarghblarghblargh I'm a bad romance writer haha. Everything I write usually has some sort of dark theme to it…so I suppose this was sort of experimental, because while I suppose it could be a bit angsty it's meant to (at least) end up happily and in a more lighthearted fashion.

**Story Notes**: Okay, so the growing rate of all the nature is kind of ridiculous…but just roll with it. xD  
>-Wiki says that N is about 16 or more; I assume he's about 17 or 18 judging from the way he looks. To me, Touko looks about 15 or 16...and I guess it's kind of like my headcanon that they're 2 years apart since I always end doing that, haha...this takes place thirteen years later, so N would be about 30 and Touko around 28 or 29. (Wow that is so weird to think about…)<br>-There are a few tense issues that need working out but I can't quite figure out how to reword them yet, so I apologize for those and hope they don't deter from the story too much.

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_This is a land of_

_Sugar and murders, truth and lies, black and white, love and hate;_

_You live in a cage of nightmares_

_That traps crows and vultures _

_Instead of doves and canaries—_

_When the cage opens you run and leave me behind in darkness._

_I wait; I turn fantasies into realities,_

_I turn nightmares into dreams_

_Because I believe in laws and freedom, science and mythos_

_You flutter back with injured wings, a clouded heart_

_I take you into my palace of dreams and say,_

"_Join me for a sunshine slumber_

_And have sweet dreams with me."_

_._

_._

_._

He spent thirteen years running from his mistakes, running from himself—and her. During his travels, he had grown considerably over the years, he thinks, both mentally and physically. Well, he'd be ashamed if he hadn't gained anything over thirteen years.

His continued pursuit in liberation had been futile; he saw that after the news of Touko White defeating Team Plasma was publicly released. His ideals—the plans that he had so carefully built and cherished—had begun crumbling into dust around him before his very eyes. He watched it continue to crumble and there was no way to salvage what he had been raised for. The influence of Team Plasma faded into nonexistence; even its own members had begun to doubt its beliefs after experiencing partnership with Pokémon.

And frankly, for a brief moment, N had resented that trainer for it. How dare she? When he first approached her he thought they were the same, he thought that they would be able to move the world together. But she had gone against him. She had destroyed him and everything he believed in.

But he remembered talking to her before he had run—he remembered the heartfelt apology in her crystalline eyes, the tears that she had shed during his speech…and he relented. He could forgive her because she believed in what she did, as he had believed in his own ideals.

What he could not forgive most of all was himself, for being used by Ghetsis— believing that he was doing the right thing; he could not forgive himself for not seeing the truth of the corruption that had taken root within his ideals.

Now, thirteen years later, N Harmonia had changed. He still retained much of his mysterious sort of personality, but he was no longer ignorant—he was no longer a young boy that could be used. He had spent half of these years reading and studying and the other half traveling to fully understand the world. He could have easily become a world renowned professor with the theses he could have proposed and the essays he could have written from his findings and experiences, yet he chose to remain unknown. People knowing that he had been the King of Team Plasma were not a problem—that fact had never been advertised although the grunts had often mentioned their King in passing. It was the fact that he didn't think he was ready to have such a large influence ever again, despite the fact that a pokémon professor was much more different than a king. He still could not solve the equation of the world, and perhaps he never would, so if he could not understand the workings of the world then it would be better to stay away from positions that people came to with questions seeking knowledge.

_The world isn't something you learn through formulas and equations, N…it's something that you begin to understand, bit by bit._

N remembered a voice that used to chide him, a voice belonging to a girl two years younger than him with chocolate hair and oceanesque eyes—a voice belonging to a girl that he had pushed into the back of his mind after he had forgiven her long ago. In fact, he barely remembered what she looked like anymore; he remembered brown hair and blue eyes, but what was the structure of her face, the exact sound of her voice? The touch of her hands, the sound of her laugh? Ever since that day in his castle he hadn't heard a single word of news about her. There had been the news and reports that she had become champion soon after his defeat, but after that initial excitement had died down and it was broadcasted that Alder would temporarily be retaining his champion duties, there was nothing TV, nothing on the radios, nothing in the newspapers, not even in conversations; it was like she had disappeared from society. Within the first year he'd left, he looked for her signs in a moment of nostalgia, of longing, but he had found nothing. And he had neither looked nor come across her name since.

_You cannot simply just see the future…but you can shape it…you can use power to make the world kneel, N, but then you are far from a savoir…you are only a tyrant. _

Her name was Touko White…she was someone who had played a deep influence in his life, for a short amount of time (yet deeply influential nonetheless) when he was seventeen. But that was thirteen years ago, when he was a boy. Now, she was just a distant memory of her girl he had once, perhaps, loved.

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He had taken to wearing glasses now, for reading. His green hair was still as unruly as ever, growing out like a bushy lion's mane. He cut it short every now and then, but he was always too immersed in research or travel or whatever he was doing and before he knew it, it was long again. So it was just simply easier to let it grow until it was necessary to cut it. He had tied it back, in the style he always had ever since he was a child—and in essence, although he was now thirty, he looked the same as he did in his youth only taller and more mature.

Traveling back to Unova had not been as emotionally challenging as he would have thought. Then again, it _had _been a long time. Only a select few people would recognize him as the ex-King of Team Plasma if they were still around, but he was no longer the embodiment of those ideals—because his own pokémon, his friends, had convinced him of the bond between trainer and pokémon. Perhaps some saw Reshiram as she flew over the region, but she safely landed him in a secluded forest so he could switch to Archeops for more casual flight.

_I'm glad you've decided to return, _Reshiram had said before N returned her to her pokeball.

N blinked at her, the ball forgotten in his hand.

_My other half is still here. And therefore, your other half still resides here as well._

He blinked again, and Reshiram took the liberty to return herself into the little red-and-white ball she considered home.

. . .

Unova had not changed. Perhaps there were more houses and some towns may have expanded ever so slightly, but it was still the same region he had grown up and travelled in.

His feet had brought him to Accumula town, standing by the open clearing where his father had once given a powerfully unsettling speech, where he had heard the loving words of a girl's pokémon that had shocked him to the very core. But he had forced himself to forget that girl…and now, when he felt a painful wave of nostalgia, he wished that he had simply locked those memories in the back of his mind instead of abandoning them completely. He wished he could remember her face, her voice, her gentle touch.

Because when it all came down to it he couldn't help but miss her—because he quite possibly still loved her.

N shook his head and sighed.

He took a seat on the bench nearby, releasing his zoroark. It curled up on his lap as N scratched behind its ears, looking up at the sky. Home really brought back an entire wave of nostalgia. He was now pining after a forgotten memory he had forced himself to leave behind—wondering about a girl that had disappeared from society without a trace.

"…and since we hadn't heard from her in so long, even her mom thought she up and disappeared! But then she called yesterday and it was so surprising! I think we might have made her deaf when I screamed and then you came running and then we _both_ screamed at her…but we haven't heard from Touko in _ages_! You think she'll call again?"

N sat up straight suddenly, not sure if he had heard right. He glanced around for the speaker, and spotted a beautiful short-haired blonde woman, walking next to a man with black hair and glasses. She was holding a baby girl in her arms, who was sleeping peacefully against her mother's chest.

"I really wish she'd told us where she went though, she tends to purposefully be vague about it…" said the woman, sighing. She shifted her child and her wedding ring glittered in the sunlight.

The man next to her, whom N presumed to be her husband, gave a shrug. "I suppose it would be best to leave her alone and wait until she has finished whatever she had set her mind on. She'll come back once she's done. She always does." He put a reassuring hand on the woman's shoulder, and N's assumptions were confirmed after seeing the matching wedding band on his finger.

The woman sighed again. "I know…but you really can't help but worry about her…even though she's stronger than both of us…oh, Cheren, look, they've got new running shoes out! We should get one for Asche for when she sets out on her adventure!"

"Bianca—wait! Don't run!"

N watched the couple with a sense of shock. Cheren, Bianca—the two who had been Touko's best friends. He had completely forgotten about them, and now seeing the two married with a daughter…

He was reminded of his own childhood, his world only a room full of repetitive music and the same toys. The sky was only as big as however many square feet his room was, and for a long time he dreamed of seeing the world…before he realized how cruel it was.

N leaned back in his seat, his zoroark turning to him curiously.

"I think…it's time to revisit my castle," he said quietly. Zoroark only stared at him and wondered if his trainer's heart would ever heal.

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N was sure that the Unova Pokémon League would have taken down the castle if they could, but it was quite the large feat. It was apparent that they had tried smashing in some walls and gave up after realizing the project would take more than it was worth, although they seemed to have repaired the damage done to the champion's room.

In the end, they left it as it was, and it was now overgrown like some ancient ruins. He combed through the foliage carefully with Zoroark, hopping onto fallen pillars, jumping across large pools of fresh water. He was rather surprised to see large trees punching their way through the rubble, and made a mental note to take a closer look later and see what kind they were.

_This is a disaster, _Zoroark said, sniffing the air. _As compared to what it used to be. But…I like it better this way._

It was seeing the cage that had clipped N's wings for so long finally being smashed. And N himself could only agree; the ruins of his castle brought about more peace than it ever could when it was still intact.

It was rather hard to navigate, as the halls were now obscured by plants, water, or rubble, but the routes were still familiar to him. He found his room after a few tries, strangely pleased to see the sky-printed flooring peeling and broken, ferns growing through the holes. The blocks were broken as well; the half-pipe was still intact, although for some reason it was covered by flowers, as if someone had tried making a garden atop it. The train tracks had been disrupted, the train lying on its side on the floor.

N couldn't help but feel a slight sense of sadness as well in seeing his room in this state, as this had been the room his spent much of his childhood in. For a long time this room had been the size of his world; and both this world and the world he had envisioned had been destroyed. But for some reason, those flowers that had been set on the half pipe made him feel a little better.

But there was one room that he most anticipated checking.

As they got closer and closer to the destined room, the water began to rise considerably, the aquatic plants swaying gently as he pushed through them. But as he climbed the stairs, Zoroark stopped him.

_Wait. There's someone here,_ he growled.

N raised an eyebrow, a shiver running down his spine.

"…Is it Ghetsis?" he asked quietly. He was not afraid of his father as he had been in his youth…but his father had left scars in his memory that would not easily fade.

_I don't know. I'm…not sure. _Zoroark replied, puzzled. He wasn't sure why he couldn't distinguish the scent; it was vaguely familiar, yet not at the same time.

N took a breath, and entered the Throne Room.

It was truly a sight to behold. Impossibly large trees had somehow taken root, scattered across the room to create the image of a fantastic forest. The room was submerged in water, coming up to his shins, full of a colorful array of aquatic plants that had not been prevalent in the other rooms and halls to give a slight rainbow hue to the water. Rocks and debris served as little islands and stepping stones; the bridge was still intact, and the room seemed to be a little world of its own.

He looked ahead to see where his throne used to sit, surprised to find that it was still there, a few vines curling around it but otherwise in almost pristine condition—

And his breath stopped to see someone sitting upon it. The figure was draped in his old cape, sitting on the armrest rather than the seat itself, the fabric of the cape draping across the front and partly into the water. At this distance, he couldn't quite tell who it was, but who else would return here except Ghetsis?

Digging his nails into his palm, he walked forward, returning Zoroark to his poke ball. Walking there seemed to take an eternity although during his coronation the length had been so short. Perhaps he was still afraid of his father—even as a grown man, but he would no longer submit to his father ever again.

Yet as he walked closer, it was becoming apparent that the figure could not be Ghetsis. It was too slim, and not to mention, the hair was of the wrong color. In fact, it wasn't even a male figure at all.

The cape was draped around pale, feminine shoulders, wavy chocolate hair tumbling down the woman's back like a waterfall, pulled back into a half-ponytail. Who was she? And why would she be here? He could not remember anyone with brown hair in the Elite Four—

She turned, and his breath hitched in his throat.

It had been thirteen years since he last saw her, and she was more beautiful than ever. Her face had lost its childlike roundness, replaced with more angular, but still soft, features. She looked like a model out of a magazine except with a more plausible, natural figure. She was wearing something similar to what she had worn back then—jean shorts and combat boots, only with a more fashionable white blouse with black lace sleeves.

Her lips parted in surprise, and they could only stare each other as if the other had popped out of some ephemeral dream.

"N…?" Touko whispered, reaching out a hesitant hand. She wondered if he was only an intangible, fleeting illusion—would he disappear the moment she touched him?

And despite the fact that he had forced himself to forget her, despite the fear that if he had ever appeared before he again she would despise him, despite everything—

He took her hand, knelt down in the water as a subject would to his king, and laid his forehead against her hand.

"I am so sorry," he whispered with a broken quality to his voice, not being able to keep back the stray tears that rolled down his face.

There was a silence, and he looked up to see her expression, surprised to see that she was crying.

"Touko—?"

She lunged forward, throwing her arms around him in a tight embrace, sobbing into his shoulder. _Do you know how long I waited? Do you know how many things I wanted to say to you? Do you—?_

She had too many words to say so she simply said nothing and cried, relieved to finally see him again although she told herself that he wouldn't return. She hadn't succumbed to a soulless mess, but she couldn't quite let go, either. Touko couldn't help but immerse herself in the traces and memories that he had left behind. She had visited the ruins of his castle often, planting some flowers and plants of her own alongside the wild foliage that had miraculously managed to make home here. She had laid flowers in N's room, bringing pots and pots of flowers to lay on the half-pipe; she had wanted to destroy his room in a sense, but at the same time she wanted to keep some semblance of it because it was _his_ room after all. In the years she had "disappeared" from society, she made her temporary home in N's beautiful but sad castle, taking care to help turn his cage of nightmares into a palace of dreams.

And today, as she was simply reminiscing, he appeared like an ethereal dream, standing amidst an aquatic garden hued with the rainbow array of flowers she had planted herself.

"I'm so sorry," he repeated again, his voice shaky. He was so glad that she had received him so warmly, that after all this time she had not grown to despise him. He wrapped his trembling arms around her, laying his head on her shoulder. "I—"

"You're here now," She said, gripping him tighter. He still smelled the same, like sunlight and berries, but he was much thinner; had he been eating right? "Don't…don't ever pull an act like that again…I…"

"I won't," N said automatically, committing himself to this phrase, "I won't."

Because now that he was here, in the arms of someone who loved him—who never stopped loving him after thirteen years, after what he did—now that he was in the arms of someone whom he loved and who loved him back, how could he imagine himself being anywhere else?

Slowly, she stopped crying, and pulled back gently. She looked into his sky blue eyes, taking in his tired and lonely face. He looked wary, ashamed even, and deeply apologetic.

But she had one thing to had promised herself she'd do if he'd ever came back.

"N," She said very seriously, and N shrank back ever so slightly, his face reverting back to the cautious expressions he had worn as seventeen.

"…Yes?"

"…Welcome back," Touko replied with a wide smile, and leaned in to give a quick and gentle kiss.

He looked surprised when she pulled back, smiling. It had been a very short and quick connection, but it had reinitiated a relationship they had nourished but had put off long ago. N felt strangely better, as if a part of him had been fulfilled—as if he had truly and wholly been released from the cages that had restricted him so long ago. The tears threatened to spill over again, but he smiled—a pure, genuine smile that had not graced his lips since that day thirteen years ago.

"…I'm home."

The woman he loves takes his hand and leads him out to a rose colored sky.


End file.
